Den of Iniquity
by Heaven's Eagle
Summary: My personal Den of Iniquity. Contains every SPN drabble of every kind that I feel cannot stand on its own. Full information inside. [Rated M just for safety reasons]
1. A Note of Welcome

**This is my title page – so welcome to my Den of Iniquity, my special little fledglings.**

**Here you shall find all kinds of drabbles, from oneshots to four-parters, from AUs to smut to crack to out-and-out angelporn. There may even be fluff – or, if you're very unlucky, fluff-and-daggers (which is my own way of saying fluffy pain with all the unnecessary feels).**

**Just so you can keep track of what you want to read and what you don't, after the title of each chapter I will put a code which will tell you what kind of drabble you're about to read without having to actually read it. I think it will make navigating this maze of iniquity that much more easy.**

**Ok, so here we go:**

AP = _angelporn  
_SM = _smut  
_C! = _crack fiction  
_AU = _alternate universe  
_FLF = _fluff  
_FDG = _fluff-and-daggers  
_EST. = _set in an established !verse (from another of my long-standing fics)_

**I will add categories as I think of them or as they become necessary. If you think of any that I haven't put that I need to, please feel free to message me.**

**Without further ado, enjoy scanning!**


	2. Pornos With Angels Pt 1 (AP)

**Title:** _Pornos With Angels Pt. 1_

**Summary:** _They may be restored, but Gabriel and Balthazar have decided that for angels who fell, Castiel and Aquila are far too innocent. Oh well - they might as well make their education fun._

**Genre:**_ Angelporn, smut, whatever you want to call it. Pure naughtiness._

**Am I sorry?** _No. No, not really._

**Characters (including references):** _Castiel, Balthazar, Gabriel, Aquila, Mimír (ref.), Dean Winchester (ref.)_

**Rating:** _M, for sweet, sweet angelporn. And swears.  
_

**Beta:** _aLoggedInReader. Much kudos dear._

* * *

They were indoors, so Aquila honestly didn't know where the snow came from. Admittedly, given the current circumstance, there were a lot of things Aquila didn't know. And, considering, the snow that was indoors was probably the least of her problems.

But it annoyed her. The four of them were inside an empty church hall, in the middle of summer – and yet snow.

Opposite her, three other angels stood – although one of them… the one she knew best… he was being held between the other two.

"Aquila?" he asked, confusion wrinkling his vessel's face. "What are we doing here?" An open question, for anyone to answer.

Balthazar laughed, his grey eyes sparkling. "Well, darling, I know Gabriel here restored you, but… well, frankly you missed out! Same for you, sweetwings," he quipped, throwing the endearment over his wing. Aquila blinked, and wondered why her vessel's face felt hot. What kind of creature had a reaction that consisted of blood filling their cheeks? _Humans._

"Missed out on what?" Castiel enquired cautiously, his voice low and wary.

"Hey, you fell, buddy! Both of you!" Gabriel exclaimed, sparing Aquila a glance. "We figure you ought to know the perks."

"We're not fallen anymore!"

Patronising, Balthazar released Castiel (it wasn't as if the seraph could break an archangel's grip, and Gabriel wasn't letting go) and approached Aquila. "Darling, I know. But you missed out. I mean, for angels who fell, the pair of you are so very… innocent." Chuckling, Balthazar stroked her cheek gently, and then turned away.

One pale orange wing brushed under her chin, and Aquila shivered. She wasn't sure, yet, what they were planning, but whatever it was, it was going to be _sinful_, she could tell.

It seemed Castiel had figured it out, however, because he looked between his fellow angels, his eyes stormy. "If you intend to… _educate_ us, then why is Aquila chained?" he asked slowly. It was true – her wings (still fledgling crystal, despite the faint reddish colour staining the tips) were pinned to her back, and thin chains invisible to mortal eyes kept here where she was, sitting upright on the church altar.

Gabriel tutted. "Now, now, little bro – you're getting the practical lesson," he said, smiling in a way that could almost be called lewd. "Our sister here, well… Maybe later – for now, she can watch."

Castiel was grasping at straws now, and they all knew it. The defeat in his voice was obvious when he spoke. "You understand that our vessels will be involved in this? They're mortal – they might not appreciate acts of homosexuality."

This time, Aquila sighed as the older angels burst into laughter. Resigned as he was, even Castiel quirked a tiny little smile of irony.

"Well, it's time you learned, dear Cassie," Balthazar said, shaking his wings out.

"You have _noooo_ idea what you've been missing, bro," Gabriel added, his voice dropping cadence. "Time to find out."

Four pale gold wings spread out behind him, the fifth and sixth reaching forward to wrap around Castiel. Aquila watched – as if she had a choice – and felt her vessel heat in unfamiliar ways, shocked by the display. Gabriel had Castiel pinned with his wings, which was bad enough, but Balthazar took full advantage of his position behind Aquila's warden, and buried his hands in the thick black feathers.

The noise that Castiel made then was so full of sin that Aquila shivered to hear it – Gabriel growled wordlessly, Balthazar sighed in bliss and dug in deeper.

Wings were sacred. Only the most trusted of friends were permitted to touch another's wings. Hell, only Castiel had ever touched Aquila's, and only once.

The times during her stint at Heaven's mercy didn't count.

But Balthazar ran through Castiel's night-dark plumage with merciless hands, teasing each feather, tracing the joints. And Castiel panted, shivering from the contact. Blindly, the once-fallen angel reached out and gripped Gabriel's smallest wings, twisting the feathers in his hands.

Gabriel let out a long, low sound, one that vibrated the air around them, carrying the power of an archangel with it. He wasn't loud – like Castiel, as Balthazar stepped closer into the warmth of inky wings – but every noise Gabriel made sent shivers over Aquila's skin. Here was an _archangel_, swimming in iniquity.

Without ceasing his ministrations to Castiel's wings (indeed, just sinking his hands into the more luscious parts), Balthazar stepped in even closer, until his pale orange pinions were spread high to avoid clashing them with the ones he fondled. With a flash of Balthazar's blue-white Grace (so much warmer than other angels'), the beige trenchcoat fluttered down behind Aquila, scraping her barely-colouring feathers.

She shuddered.

In accompaniment to the coat, Castiel's jacket, shirt, undershirt and vest fell down to the floor, scattered amongst the pews. It struck Aquila, as Balthazar leaned in to kiss Castiel's now-naked back just between the base of his wings, and the black-winged angel moaned at the feeling and positively tried to strip out Gabriel's feathers, that they were in a church. Four angels in a church seemed almost appropriate, even _if_ they dipped into mortal pleasures.

Never had Aquila felt the cold before, but _now_ the snow seemed exquisitely icy against her hot vessel. And now fully absorbed in the decadence unfolding before her, the fact there was snowfall indoors no longer bothered her.

She was hot – _so hot_ – and the irritable human heart was beating so fast and so hard… Aquila could feel it in her vessel's chest, hear it in her own ears.

The low sound pouring from Gabriel's throat became louder, thrumming throughout the indoor blizzard. Thick with the archangel's power, the snow burned coldly as it fell from the high ceiling, and Aquila shivered in her chains. It was involuntary and she knew it was wrong – but hell if the sight of her brothers abusing each other's wings in such a delicious manner didn't make her long for the same treatment.

"I thought you'd like this," Balthazar murmured, still pressing his lips between Castiel's shoulder blades. "You always were so sensitive about your wings, dear Cassie."

Gabriel laughed, and his small wings – the ones in Castiel's grip – shuddered. He too stepped closer to Castiel, and Aquila could see little more of him than black hair and feathers, though the sharp gasps and moans were painfully clear.

"What are you doing to me?" he choked out, and Aquila saw a ripple through the knot of angels that indicated Castiel had jerked. Not surprising, since Balthazar had hands in his wings and lips on his back and Gabriel had fingertips brushing his chest – bare, now, save for that crooked blue tie.

For a protracted moment, the sounds that the 'male' angels were making dulled into a deep humming that went below the range of mortal ears, but shot through Aquila's vessel and straight into her Grace, and she realised that Gabriel had kissed Castiel.

"Surely you've felt this before," Balthazar mused, moving his mouth to Castiel's neck. "When you hang around that sexy little Hunter of yours."

In response, Castiel just moaned as the seraph kissed along the leading edge of one wing.

Gabriel pulled away slightly, sweeping his middle pair of wings around for Castiel to manhandle. "No, of course you haven't," he continued Balthazar's speech. "You've got no idea! This, Castiel, is _lust_."

Lust. Definitely a sin. One of Seven Deadly, to be precise. And somehow, Aquila didn't care. She struggled with her wings and her chains, not even embarrassed when little whimpers escaped her lips.

They ignored her.

"This… is lust?" Castiel gasped, and Aquila swore she saw a nip at a wingjoint.

"This is lust, Cassie," Balthazar confirmed, grinning as Gabriel claimed inexperienced lips again. "No wonder humans love it so much, huh?"

Laughing (or moaning, Aquila wasn't sure anymore – and Castiel was still roughing up his pale golden wings), Gabriel sent his foremost pair of wings around and up, tangling them with Balthazar's. The Garrison's Sassiest Angel sighed blissfully, leaning on Castiel and twitching his wings against Gabriel's.

"Bet you didn't know your wings could be used like this, huh bro?" the archangel said, but the things that Balthazar was doing to him prevented Castiel from replying in any manner beyond a sharp exultation.

Damned if it was a sin, Aquila wanted it. Her wings were quivering – she couldn't even imagine what it felt like to have another angel's hands (their _Grace_) twined through them. Castiel had been as nervous as her, though, about Gabe and Balthy's plans, and if he'd given in so easily, so quickly…

Part of her knew it was wrong. But even so, Balthazar's cry when Gabriel overpowered him, sent his wings down to the floor under the strength of his own; it made Aquila whine quietly.

"I… I always thought it was… customary… for all parties to… to…" Castiel stammered out, losing his words as Balthazar's hands were replaced with Gabriel's secondary pair of wings, and gold feathers slid so sleekly against black.

"Get naked?" Balthazar supplied a little breathlessly, at the same time that Castiel stuttered and moaned around Gabriel's name.

"G-Gabriel, your- wings…"

And louder now, more insistent, Aquila whined. If hands had reduced Castiel's willpower to naught, then she could only _dream_ about how it might feel for someone else's _wings_ to lock into place against hers, sliding and rustling and leaking Grace.

And still, they ignored her. Castiel probably couldn't even hear her.

"So what you're saying, little brother, is that you want us to strip for you," Gabriel grinned, twisting his wings around those of the lesser angels.

Even Balthazar couldn't help the little yelp of pleasure, rubbing up against Castiel. Face between black wings, hands griping exposed pectorals, pale orange wings pinned down. The thin v-neck wouldn't be enough to block the heat of the other angel from seeping through.

Castiel seemed stunned by the reaction, rocking in place for a moment, silenced. Then, quietly, he whispered something beyond even Aquila's hearing and leaned back into Balthazar's heated embrace.

"I think we should oblige," the seraph murmured, and Aquila sensed his Grace uncoil.

There was a low growl that Aquila couldn't believe Castiel had produced, and the dark-feathered angel's icy Grace pulsed violently.

Clothes scattered everywhere. Shirts and jackets blew all over the floor. Castiel was left in tie, belt and briefs, Balthazar the same sans the tie and up a necklace, and Gabriel nothing but the briefs.

Aquila honestly didn't understand the fascination humans had with each other's flesh. After all, they were _all_ in possession of it. But then, right now, perhaps it wasn't so ridiculous. The amount that her three brothers were showing now…

She trembled.

For a moment following the explosion of Castiel's Grace, only the sound of settling fabric could be heard, in addition to Aquila's laboured breathing. Then Gabriel's golden eyes met Balthazar's and they burst into laughter. It did things, though, to the way their wings were entwined, and the mirth quickly degenerated into gasps and groans and moans.

Gabriel pressed against Castiel's front (Balthazar still embracing him from behind), and leaned up to kiss the less experienced angel again. Castiel grabbed Gabriel's bare shoulders and pulled him up roughly, and for an angel who'd rarely kissed before, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

It was difficult, almost, for Castiel not to break off and whine happily every few seconds, given what Gabriel's wings were doing to his, and that Balthazar was kissing and licking and biting over his shoulders and neck. Aquila didn't quite know what to do with it – and that Gabriel's primary wings were still engaged with Balthazar's on the ground spelt the second Deadly Sin of the night: jealousy.

It wasn't fair. It was wrong, what was happening, and not because of mortal reasons. Most of what humans thought was so damn important was crap – but they were angels, and this… this… _vice_ wasn't something they should be indulging. But she wanted it anyway, because Castiel had never led her wrong, not since she'd shown up alone and scared and with his name in her head, and—and—the _sounds he was making_.

But her brothers continued to ignore her.

With a little sigh, Castiel drew back from Gabriel's rough kisses, but the archangel wasn't done so he stood up higher and leaned over Castiel's shoulder, letting the taller angel bear his weight. Wings still so luxuriously entwined with theirs, he caught Balthazar full on the lips, and used the strength of their tangled plumages to force Balthazar to kiss back.

While they made out over his shoulder, Castiel dipped his head down, deep blue eyes half-closed and glazed, and nibbled on Gabriel's neck lightly, all wet lips and tongue.

Aquila didn't even acknowledge her tiny whimpers anymore, struggling against the angelic chain holding her down. It wasn't fair, _it wasn't fair,_**_it wasn't fair_**! Why did Castiel get all the practical lessons, why was she pinned down, why—why couldn't she be part of whatever amazing feelings the three angels in front of her were clearly feeling? The bass of Gabriel's gasps, little snatches of his voice spiralling outwards in half-formed names and commands filled the blizzard with archangelic power, and every Grace-infused snowflake that landed on Aquila's hot skin melted and sent tendrils of liquid sin through her nerves.

Still not breaking formation, Castiel wrapped his arms around Gabriel's vessel and dug his hands into the base of the archangel's wings, stroking along the hard leading edges, tugging at the downy feathers that brushed against Gabriel's skin. Beside his ear, where Balthazar and Gabriel were still biting each other's lips, the archangel stuttered and gasped for real for the first time, golden eyes widening and glazing concurrently.

Staying gentle now, Castiel closed his eyes so he could just surrender to _feeling_ and brushed his fingertips through the short, soft feathers tucked against Gabriel's shoulder blades, rubbing open palms down his back directly below. All the while, he continued to mouth his way up Gabriel's neck, using a tiny amount of tooth, tongue sliding over the golden skin.

Mirroring Aquila's shudder, Gabriel melted into Castiel's embrace. The archangel submitted to Castiel completely, letting the black wings take over their dance, tipping his head back, leaning into it. The only sign that he wasn't completely gone was Balthazar, pale orange wings still trapped.

Gabriel and Castiel knotted themselves together, setting their bodies flush for a moment, separating, and realigning. Finally, they began to kiss again, all passion and fury and bitten lips, and Aquila watched in envious awe as little shimmers of Grace passed between them.

Behind the openly passionate scene, Balthazar was fidgeting, watching with silver-grey hawk eyes, his wings still pinned and rubbing against Gabriel's like silk as the archangel twitched and shuddered and moaned at whatever Castiel was doing to him now. Then, a wicked gleam came into his gaze. Ever so carefully, holding a moan as a hum when Gabriel's leading edge ruffled his feathers the wrong way, he stepped close enough to lick up the back of Castiel's neck, and Aquila stiffened when his warm Grace shot outwards through the electric-cold snowstorm.

There was a moment, so very brief, when Balthazar's Grace was all that existed, and then Castiel's very audible shout broke the spell and Aquila was back to being chained and tortured. Even after all of Heaven's persuasion, she was quite sure that she'd never been tortured quite as exquisitely as this. Castiel looked so rapturous, and even Gabriel seemed to be rapidly falling out of control, and Balthazar…

Aquila only realised what he had done when she saw the fluttering of fabric through the snow. Aside from Castiel's tie, she and Balthazar were officially the only angels with any kind of clothing on.

"Whoa, Castiel," Gabriel finally spoke out, his voice deep and sudden in the wordlessness that had overtaken them, and he slowed the virgin angel's kisses and strokes with a couple of his own. "It's about enjoying it," he muttered, detangling his wings with some care. "But… Well… Where the hell did you learn that?" he added, and he sounded legitimately breathless.

Castiel stared down at Gabriel, his blue eyes almost black with lust, and smirked a little. (And it was then that Aquila assumed she'd died, because Castiel wasn't one for smirking, not really, and now that he had even she couldn't deny that she wanted a piece of those wings, even though she'd never looked at him that way before, because he was her warden, dammit, and there were some things that shouldn't be thought).

"I've observed humanity long enough, Gabriel," Castiel breathed back, wings quivering, his lean body slicked with sweat.

A twirl and rustle of wings later and Balthazar had spun Castiel on the spot, claiming his turn to kiss him. Orange slammed violently into black and their wings crashed together, surrounding them. Aquila couldn't see through the screen of feathers, but she watched every dip of their dance, listened to every cry, memorised the hand movements over wings when she saw them.

Even if they didn't let her go this time, she would be ready with what she learned, because she'd fall again before she'd give up the opportunity to be as euphoric as Castiel was right now.

"Learning something, Quil?" Gabriel asked, turning away from the otherwise-shameful display of wings and lust going on behind him. When she nodded, it was absent, and she didn't even look at him. It was due only to his status as archangel that she'd responded at all – her sight was too set on the lover-angels.

There was a sharp jerk and too-hot places were suddenly assaulted with a zapping coolness and Aquila realised belatedly that her wings had been freed. For a moment, her pinions reached skyward, releasing the strain they'd held against their bonds, and then they folded halfway, hanging either side of her in thick shrouds. Mostly they were still crystal, but Aquila could see satisfaction in Gabriel's eyes, and she just knew how they would look like (damp from melted snow) once they were fully coloured the rich, red-brown.

"Doesn't that feel just so much better?" Gabriel asked, and seeing him move closer finally snapped her attention over.

Why the _fuck_ hadn't she looked at him before? Never had she thought to use the curses she'd picked up from Dean's filthy mouth, but now they slipped into her thoughts like honey. Very satisfying honey.

Gabriel was standing right in front of her, six wings half-spread behind him in folds reminiscent of her own, golden eyes glittering, golden skin glistening. Now she truly appreciated the beauty of mortal flesh, if only because it was made radiant by the twisting shifts of colour and silver and gold that she could see writhing underneath the skin, broken only by the magnificent plumage. His Grace surrounded him in a silent tornado, unleashed by the abandon of the situation.

And Aquila didn't even care that Gabriel was adorned with sweat like a mortal, that he was trembling and erect; she didn't care that being in vessels added such a dark, _human_ element so purely physical that it was alien to the angel.

She wanted what Castiel had. And she wanted it now.

Whining quietly, she flexed her wings and reached out with them, not even caring that when Gabriel mirrored her, his primaries left scratches on the church's stained glass. She didn't care that Gabriel's feathers were damp from the snow as well, she didn't give any damns that here was an archangel, the exact archangel who was currently in control of Heaven, stripped down to a being of carnal desire.

She didn't care.

"Well, I can guess what you're thinking," Gabriel murmured, stepping close enough that his breath wafted over her face. It smelled like cane sugar, sweetened and flavoured. Aquila couldn't help but wonder if he tasted the same.

Whiplash quick, she tried to jerk forward and lick him, to see if he really did taste the same, but the heavenly chains tightened around her and she was held in place. "Bad fledgling," Gabriel chuckled. "You gotta stay there! I'll make you a deal. Survive this, and then maybe we can—"

Just what they _could_ Aquila never found out, because at that moment a yelp filled the church – a yelp that bled an angel's true voice, and cracked the scratches Gabriel had put in the glass. It had been rather a while since Aquila had last heard his true voice, so long had they spent in vessels, but she would recognise Castiel anywhere.

"Hey!" Gabriel exclaimed, spinning on the spot – his feathers brushed over Aquila's body, tickling her face and filling her nose with heady scent of sweet peppermint. She couldn't have cared about the archangel's nakedness if she'd tried. "No getting to the fun part without me, now," Gabriel chastised, flexing his wings.

In a heartbeat, he was back with the unbound angels, leaving Aquila to her misery. Frustrated, the fledgling stretched her full wingspan, lifting and flapping, sending eddies through the snowfall – but still, as ever, she was ignored.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Gabriel," Balthazar responded, his voice thick. Now, if never before, Aquila was grateful for how willing Mimír was to share her prize.

While the older angels bantered, wings shivering, bodies trembling, Castiel bit his lip. "What are you doing?" he asked. Nothing could erase the angel's powerful cadence, but when he spoke, he sounded unsure. "I don't…"

Castiel twitched, tipping his head back as Gabriel scraped four wings down the length of Castiel's plumage. Air rushed past his lips, though somehow Aquila doubted it brought him any relief, as breathing usually brought one's vessel relief.

Orange feathers obscured Aquila's view of whatever happened next, but there was a rustling and a sharp jerk and suddenly all three of them had unbalanced, heaped on the floor in an anything-but-divine-looking muddle. With two angels and an archangel, they had a total of ten wings in play, so it was no surprise to the enforced observer that there was too much plumage for her to see through.

But what she did see clearly, through the blizzard, was the flare of Gabriel's Grace (the blue-white tinged with gold) and the flash of black cotton. All that was left of what had once been appropriate garb was a twisted blue tie around Castiel's neck, and silver chain around Balthazar's.

"Come on, bro, this is the best _part_ of lust," Gabriel encouraged, and through the tangle of wings, Aquila saw him straddle Castiel's larger vessel.

There was no doubt. If there had been some to begin with, the wicked nature of their interaction proved it to Aquila. They were brothers, so of course they cared. But this was no show of affection. This was pure lust, the animal instinct carried in the human vessels they had claimed, mortality's natural sin taking over. It should have horrified her. She should had fought to return to Heaven, struggled to leave, closed her eyes. But it didn't.

Maybe it was because Gabriel ran Heaven now. There wasn't that prickle in the back of her mind, the little tug on her Grace that insisted _No, sinful, wrong._ She couldn't feel Heaven's influence trying to stop her. So she looked on.

Gabriel grinned to himself, and when Balthazar attempted to sit up, he used one wing to knock him down again. The archangel didn't get off of Castiel, so when Balthy snagged the wing that Gabe had so foolishly given over, gripping the leading edge and stroking each feather softly, the reflexive grind of his hips went straight to Cas.

Laughing quietly, Balthazar sat up and fluffed his own wings, still caressing Gabriel's feathers languidly. "I saw what Cassie did to you, darling. I _know_ you secretly like it gentle." With a flourish and a smirk, Balthazar leaned into Gabriel's damp wing and started kissing along the front of it, carefully separating the shaft of each feather with his lips and tongue.

Gabriel moaned, twisting on top of Castiel, and the younger angel didn't know how to react to that. The black wings slammed into the floor of the church, cracking the timber, and string of Enochian cursing in Castiel's true voice blew apart the windows he'd cracked earlier. Far above them, lightbulbs exploded, and sparks rained down through the snow.

Everyone was wet. In all this time, the snowstorm hadn't ceased – though it had thinned and slowed somewhat, until flakes were falling only intermittently, which led Aquila to believe it was probably Gabriel's doing – but the heat of four aroused angels and their Graces was enough to melt it, leaving all of them slicked with water. Their wings were slick and shiny, and heavy with liquid. Aquila wasn't even holding hers up anymore, simply letting them droop over the edge of the altar.

"Gabriel, darling," Balthazar murmured against golden feathers, making his way ever closer to Gabriel's body, ignoring the sharpness of his cries or his movements against Castiel. He didn't even take heed of the expression in Castiel's eyes. "Why don't you manifest your wings on the mortal plane," he offered, finally reaching Gabriel's back and biting softly. "You _know_ what that's like."

A hint like that couldn't really get much more obvious, but Castiel clearly didn't need it to. Sharply, he sat up, setting his chest flat against Gabriel's, and then he flipped them over in a rush of wings and flexing Grace.

The wing Balthazar had been so careful with was torn from his grip, and instead black feathers shrouded him for a moment. While Castiel knelt over Gabriel and slowly leaned down to nibble at his throat, and down further over the archangel's chest, Balthazar very cautiously raised his wings – slipping in behind Castiel and running hot kisses down his spine – before he covered the black plumage with his own and knocked them down, pinning Castiel (and Gabriel under him) in place.

It was snowing and everything was wet and shimmering with Grace gone wild, but it didn't stop Aquila from seeing them. They were piled on top of each other, sinfully and wonderfully naked, and Aquila wondered it if was just the snow or if she was actually drooling.

Taller than Castiel, and easily reaching over his back, Balthazar scraped his teeth along the joint where skin met feathers, gently, encouragingly. Simultaneously, he dug in his fingernails, and dragged them down Castiel's spine, all the way down to his tailbone. The sound that Cas made then was more of a howl than anything else, and Aquila felt it puncture her chest, Grace and all, ringing with his true voice.

Under Balthazar's, Castiel's wings tensed, pushing upwards, but the snow was on Balthazar's side, and their wet heaviness in combination with his resistance ensured Balthazar's victory there. Slowly, causing a sharp gasp that stuck in the damp air, Balthazar continued scratching downwards, over Castiel's cheeks and further down, skimming over his thigh with the backs of his nails, curving around to grip the younger angel's leg and pin him in place.

"I might take you up on that," Gabriel murmured, reaching up to scratch Castiel's chest. Unlike Balthazar, he wasn't playing nice; cuts opened on Castiel's skin where Gabriel's nails went, healing over quickly. Only the slightest trace of blood remained.

Shocked by the action, Castiel's breathing stuttered, and he looked down at Gabriel in confusion. "No?" Balthazar chuckled. "You'll have to be _nice_, Gabriel."

"He'll learn to like it," the archangel assured all involved. Then, with a quick shake (though there was little hope of freeing himself), Gabriel stretched out his wings and let out a sigh.

Light bloomed around the golden feathers, and they shimmered, becoming almost too _real_ for Aquila to look at. They shone in the snow-filled church, blinding with threads and pools of Gabriel's true form, shedding Grace like water. To the other angels, they were beautiful and threatening, even pressed against the floor in submission, an archangel's wings manifest. You couldn't hide your wings from other angels any of the time, but now even humans would be able to see them – and haemorrhage in their presence. Wings touched together in the angel-plane was bliss, if Aquila's senses had not betrayed her – she hadn't thought it could get better.

But Castiel reached out, trembling, and touched one hand to the glowing, pulsing feathers and Gabriel choked, his back arching.

"Can- Can I?" he whispered, looking up to meet Gabriel's eyes.

There was no love in the grin Castiel received. Wicked and lustful, Gabriel's gold eyes had darkened into rich amber-brown, and Aquila knew that she truly was either dead, or her brothers were lost. The sin had them full in its grip – the deeds would be completed. She knew that.

Even Aquila was surprised by the anger that hissed wordlessly through her teeth, but she welcomed it. Perhaps, if she changed tactic, they would take notice of her – free her.

It was all in vain. They ignored her.

"If you can," Gabriel breathed back, only to let out a cry of Enochian. Unlike Castiel, when _he_ let out a note of his true voice, the windows shattered and rained down, joining the snow on the floor, and the thick pipes of the church organ hissed and melted. Angel trumped human, and everything they engineered.

As close as Aquila was to the source, as feverish as the sound of Gabriel's true voice twisted in mortal pleasure made her, Castiel was closer still – he was the _cause_ – and his wings snapped straight, forcing Balthazar's up with them. Both let out little wet whimpers of delight, orange and black plumage catching and tugging.

There was a burst of power, Castiel's newly restored Grace exploding outwards like an ice blue firework, and lashes of glittering colour shot through his feathers. The black wings seemed to almost expand with their manifestation into the mortal plane, throbbing with the starlight of Castiel's true form, silkier than what was possible in the human realm.

Shock filtered through her emotions, though, when she heard the surprised yelp and saw the blood spill over Castiel's skin. "Sorry, love, forgot," Balthazar muttered, smirking darkly. "They do have to go through your vessel."

Only now did Aquila see the pools of scarlet staining the floor beneath Gabriel – although the pain of forcing his wings through his vessel seemed to affect him very little. And all too soon, before she could comprehend what that might mean, there was another wave of Grace that warmed her face and rainbows poured through Balthazar's feathers, the snow melting as it fell and turning to sleet. Moaning softly as he did so, Balthazar rubbed his manifested wings against Castiel's.

If ever Castiel could scream, that was the time. Piercing Enochian punched through Aquila's Grace, and she twitched in place, cursing the chains holding her there. And it wasn't only Castiel's true voice that sent shockwaves through the sleet, as Balthazar forced their wings down and straight into Gabriel's.

All feathers now tangled together (sending spiderweb cracks through the timber floor with their strength), and with drips of blood seeping through radiant wings, forming puddles around Castiel's hands, trickling down Balthazar's back and legs, true voices slipping through and a few lost words in Enochian cracking the architecture, Aquila thought she might just… _cry_. An odd, human reaction – and yet it was not only her Grace that boiled in her body, and the troublesome human heart pounded in her chest like hunting drums.

Gabriel reached up from his position on the floor, and wrapped his hands in feathers – all of their feathers. It was actually rather stunning, when they cried out in harmony like that, Aquila thought, even more so with their true voices.

Then, slowly, wet with blood and water, Balthazar slid one hand down Castiel's back again, but this time he stopped at his tailbone. She couldn't see exactly what occurred next, but Castiel yelped and twitched, and Gabriel gripped his shoulders tightly.

Grinning wickedly, the archangel pulled his underling down, forcing their skin together, all wings flailing in the air. Castiel remained in his undignified position, hindquarters raised above the rest of him with his plumage, face a mere inch from Gabriel's. "Surely you know what happens next, bro?" the archangel smirked, tipping his face up to bite Castiel's lip.

"Yes," Castiel rumbled in Enochian, causing the heavy mahogany doors to the holy building to crack.

While Gabriel pulled his face in close for some kisses, Balthazar leaned over Castiel's vessel and touched wet lips and tongue to his back, lithe fingers still rubbing along his tailbone – and dipping down further. Small whimpers escaped Castiel's throat, little ribbons of Grace and true voice spinning through the lingering snow and touching Aquila's vessel.

As an angel, Aquila's Grace maintained her vessel's core temperature, ensuring her own complete comfort regardless of her environment. Now, though, she felt too hot for her skin, as if it might melt and she would shed it like an animal. Blood throbbed through her, sourced from the asinine human heart in her chest, but it was strangely pleasurable. She struggled even though she knew it was pointless, because Gabriel wasn't messing around with her restraints, but she wanted it, she wanted to be down there, not stuck up on the altar alone. Unsatisfied.

"Well, darling Cassie. You ready?" Balthazar all but _purred_, making sure the words were spun with his true voice, flexing his manifested wings against theirs. The three seraphs moaned together, their Graces blistering with a divinity that belied their current activities. If Aquila hadn't been sure of what she was, she would have doubted what her brothers were.

Castiel broke away from Gabriel's kissing with a sharp growl and a twitch of his own wings, balancing his weight on his left hand, shoulder muscles popping with the effort, his skin pale and glistening with sweat and melted snow. "_Yes_," he insisted, again in Enochian, cracking the doors again. His fingers curled into claws, he dug his nails into Gabriel's shoulder, bleeding the archangel as he dragged down his arm.

Gabriel hissed at first, body rippling upwards in a wave of motion, but Castiel's attack didn't stop there. Balthazar rubbed over Castiel's lower cheeks once more before dipping his dexterous fingers down lower, cupping the soft skin that hung below the younger angel's erection.

Now, it was Castiel's turn to hiss, and it was wrought with the threat of his true voice, but it didn't stop him. While the orange-winged angel fondled him, Castiel continued his path down Gabriel's body, and didn't stop until he was mimicking Balthazar's attentions. Gabriel flapped his wings (extracting cries from all three throats), and he pushed his hips against Castiel's ministration. Softly at first, but clearly as lost as the lesser angels in the throes of passion, Gabriel moaned, and mumbled the other angels' names in Enochian.

Hearing their true names spoken so sinfully, from the mouth of a vessel, in the sin-soaked voice of an archangel, Castiel and Balthazar shuddered against each other.

Carefully, wasting no time, Balthazar reached further, giving Castiel's member a single, swift stroke. The angel's breathing stuttered violently, his Grace pulsing in accord, but he copied the action and performed it on Gabriel with unerring accuracy. Once more, Gabriel dragged his feathers through theirs, the divine rustling filling the church with additional sound.

Trapped on the altar, Aquila didn't try to keep herself in check, overwhelmed by the strange heat pulsing under her skin in time with her Grace, and the wet feeling that was so physical and confusing and yet inspired nothing but lust in her.

Aquila was quite sure she alone was experiencing enough lust to last several human lifetimes, and for all the decadence of the thought, she luxuriated in the idea of being able to expend it. Wordlessly, she shouted at her brothers in Enochian, hearing her own true voice crack the church's pillars, but alas. They paid her no heed.

From that distance, and with so much plumage scintillating and dancing through the falling snow, obscuring her vision, she couldn't see exactly what happened next. But Aquila knew the theory, and therefore she knew the exact moment the angels entered each other's vessels.

Balthazar gave a little chuckle, a dark swell of his true voice, when he slid one finger inside Castiel and the not-quite-so-virgin angel gasped and stopped breathing, back arching, wings tightening and drawing inwards – bending the wings tangled with them towards his body as well. The scrape of their manifested feathers jumpstarted Castiel's breathing again and he let out a long, twisted noise that bounced from wall to wall and ripped holes into Aquila's Grace.

And a moment later, Gabriel groaned quietly into the action, spine curving off the varnished wooden floor, wings tensing, Grace asphyxiating not only Castiel's and Balthazar's, but Aquila's too. Slicked with snow and sweat and blood, Castiel had emulated Balthazar and pushed a single digit inside of Gabriel.

Aquila should feel scared. The impiety surrounding her, consuming her, should send her running, and the archangel's Grace throttling her own should be threatening, terrifying. Instead, she languished in it. If she was not to taste such delicious forbidden fruits, then she would enjoy their thick scent.


End file.
